


i'll follow you

by nerdyscully (dalecooperscoffee)



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Post-Series, Sappy, in there too, oh and there's a, so damn sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 08:33:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6650470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dalecooperscoffee/pseuds/nerdyscully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy Mustang is finally Fuhrer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'll follow you

**Author's Note:**

> i just wanted them to be happy. here you go

Roy Mustang was Fuhrer. It was still settling in, but as soon as it was announced, Havoc was organizing a get together at the bar the team always went to--for birthdays, for the occasional Friday night, for the “work was brutal” days. It had been awhile since they had a reason to go, and this was as good as any. Perhaps this was the best reason. 

They were barely an hour into the night, and the pub was fairly rowdy already. Roy was sipping on his first beer, which tasted better than any of the other many beers he had drank here. He didn’t want to drink too fast, not yet. It was too early for that. Jean plopped himself down in the chair next to him, grinning with a cigarette between his teeth. “You’re quiet tonight,” he patted his back. “And it’s your own party!”

“Just thinking,” Roy smiled. “Seen the General around?” Riza had recently been promoted, too, and there was no one prouder of her than him. She knew it, too, not because he told her, but because of how he grinned ear to ear when it was announced. 

“She’s off with Rebecca somewhere. Oh, and speak of the angels.” Jean could be a better flirt than him sometimes. The two women, bottles of beer in their hands, were making their way over to them. Riza sat herself down next to the Fuhrer, offering him a soft smile. 

“What’s on your mind, sir?” she asked. Jean had quickly lost himself in conversation with Rebecca, paying them no mind anymore. 

“You can call me Roy right now,” he chuckled. “And, I don’t know. Lots of things.”

“How do you feel?”

“I’m just fine, Riza. Can I call you Riza?”

Instead of answering his question, she smirked. “Isn’t it funny we’ve known each other for years and years and we have to ask if we can call each other by our first names?” They both laughed, which felt nice. They didn’t have much reason to lately. “You can definitely call me Riza.”

“Well, I feel okay, Riza.”

“Just okay?”

“Ask me after another couple of beers.” She merely shook her head at that. “But, really, I’m alright. Just thinking. It’s nice to see everyone having fun.”

She nodded in agreement, happy to join him in observing the others for a while. After a few moments of silence between them, he said, softly, “You know who I wish was here?”

“General Hughes?”

“Yeah. Maes would be having a blast right now.”

“He really would. He would be so proud of you,” she said. “You know, if heaven is real and my bitterness is unjustified, he’s probably up there watching us.”

“It’s okay, I’m bitter about the idea of heaven, too,” he replied, taking a sip of beer. “Or any afterlife, really. But if there really is one, Maes is sure up there. And he better be watching us.”

She smiled sadly. “I go see Gracia sometimes. We weren’t ever very close, but it’s nice to see her.”

“I didn’t know you do that.”

“I keep it sort of quiet. It’s funny how we’re all still sad about it, and it was so long ago, really. Elicia is in school now. And she really is adorable. I don’t blame him for bragging, as annoying as it was.” Her smile lost some of the sadness and her eyes seemed brighter talking about the girl. 

“He was one of a kind, that’s for sure.” He took a gulp, not a sip of his beer, letting it burn its way down his throat, trying to dissolve the lump that was quickly forming there. Tonight was not a night for crying. “So are you, Riza.”

She waved his compliment off. “Tonight is not about me, Roy.”

“We’ve been with each other for this many years and I can’t tell you you’re great?”

“Like I said, this night is about how great  _ you _ are.”

“I wouldn’t have got here if I didn’t have you.”

Her eyes moved from his to the floor. “You shouldn’t be allowed to drink beer, it makes you flirty.” she joked softly, a blush creeping its way up her neck.

He grinned. “Ah, you’ve figured me out.”  
She offered him a smile, and it reminded him of the smiles she used to give him as a teenager. It had a hint of shyness in it. He ordered another round of drinks, asking for an old fashioned whiskey along with it. “And now _you_ have me figured out.” She said.

“You’re not getting too many of those,” Roy played along, “Whiskey’s not cheap.”

“You were the one who decided to pay just now,” she teased. 

“You’re the one who’s a tough date.”

“I didn’t know we were on a date,” she said. When the waitress came around with the drinks, Riza took an eager first gulp of her whiskey. It made her cough a bit, and it gave her cheeks and chest a flush. It had been a long time since Roy had seen her drink like that. The last time was probably at Jean’s birthday party many years ago. There was not one person who was not drunk--and as a result, there was a lot of money spent on cabs that night. “To us.” she said, raising her drink, her voice still scratchy. 

“To us.” he clinked his beer against it. “We must be doing something right if we’re still around.”

Though Roy had said it as a joke, his last sentence got him thinking again as he started on his second beer, still going at a steady pace. Riza didn’t gulp the rest of her drink down, either; she was too smart for that. He was lost in thought again. They were doing something right, weren’t they? He loved her, which was something he knew--and had known for ages now. And she knew it, too, though they had never said that word to each other.

“You have that look again.”

“Hm?”

“The,” she imitated his thinking face, furrowing her brow exaggeratedly. “That look.” He scoffed, but couldn’t help but laugh.

“I don’t look like that.”

“Yes you do.” Roy frowned. “And there it is!” She exclaimed, and they laughed again. It wasn’t the alcohol. It was just that they were happy, and they felt finally as if they deserved to feel happy, at least for tonight. 

Though a few people left the party sloshed, it wasn’t one that would go down in the books for any special reason other than it was the night Roy Mustang became Fuhrer. And though the party was thrown for him, he spent most of it in the corner with Riza, talking and drinking and laughing and flirting a little. When they climbed into a cab together, they were just barely tipsy, which surprised both of them. “Really, you had no reason not to get drunk.” she said.

“I’m too old for that now,” he admitted. “Hell, I’ve already got a headache from three beers.”

She smiled softly. “Do you wanna stop at my house for some tea?”

“That would be really nice, actually. Thank you.”

“Of course.” When they stopped by her house, he attempted to pay for the cab, but she stopped him. “You paid for the drinks, I pay for the cab. It’s only fair.” He didn’t have the energy to argue. 

Riza opened the door for them, kneeling down to give Black Hayate a scratch behind the ears as a greeting. “You should be asleep,” she chided the dog gently. “Go ahead and make yourself at home.” she told Roy, setting the kettle on the stove.

“Must be quiet around here,” he mused, mainly to himself.

“Not when Hayate’s hungry,” she chuckled. “You live alone, too. Is it quiet for you?”

“Mm, it does. I think I’m just used to it.”

“Do you like being used to it?”

“Do you always ask such deep questions at night?” He smirked, “I don’t know. It’s all I know right now. But I wouldn’t mind a change.”

The last sentence hung in the air. “Neither would I.” She mumbled. 

The kettle started squealing, and Riza poured two cups of hot tea, joining him on the couch. “Riza,” he said softly, setting the scalding cup down. 

“Hm?”

“I love you, you know.”

She looked up at him with an expression that he couldn’t decipher for a few moments. He eventually realized she was trying to figure out if he was sincere and it wasn’t just the alcohol talking. But it really wasn’t--three beers really gave him nothing but a headache. “Yes, I know. And I love you, too.” He knew she wasn’t drunk either. She had one more whiskey after her first, and stuck to soda water after that. They weren’t as young as they used to be.

“And I want you to be my wife.”

Now she was shocked. “Roy.” She left it at that.

“If this isn’t the right time, and if you want me to do this differently, or you want to think about it, or you don’t want it at all--” he was interrupted by her placing her face in her hands. 

“Roy…you’ve been planning this, haven’t you?”

“Sort of. I knew I wanted to ask you after I became Fuhrer. It just sort of came out. But, like I said…”

Riza looked up at him again, reaching out to brush a stray hair out of his eyes. She let her touch linger. “Yes. My answer is yes.”

He pulled her close and buried his face in her neck. She was warm and soft; there were no hard edges or cold looks. She didn’t have to be like that now. And he thought again how they deserved this, they deserved each other, even with all their past and future sins. “Riza.” he said her name just to say it. 

“You’re a sap, you know that?” She mumbled into his hair, kissing his temple. 

“Good. Only for you.” He kissed her, which wasn’t their first kiss--they were once teenagers together and they did all the things teenagers usually did. “I’m going to be your husband.” he whispered reverently, still in disbelief.

“You have to abolish the fraternization laws first.” she reminded him, ever the practical one.

“I know. And I will. It’ll be my first order of business as Fuhrer.” She had no objections, and if she was happy, well, he was blissful. 

“Well, then, after that,” she smiled, resting her hands on his face. “I’m going to be your wife.” It still sounded foreign on both of their tongues, but a beautiful foreign. It left a sweet taste, almost sharp with excitement. They had waited so long, years and years of not even being allowed to call each other by their first names yet loving each other silently and fiercely, and here they were. Engaged to be married.

“I have a ring, I just didn’t bring it.” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Like I said, it just sort of came out.”

She chuckled. That was such a Roy thing for him to do. “It’s alright. When did you get a ring, anyway?”

“Ages ago, to be honest with you. I’ve kept it stored and locked away since I did.”

“You’re a hopeless romantic,” Riza said teasingly. 

“I guess I am.”

She pulled him into her arms again. “I’m okay with that.”

“You’re going to have to spend the rest of your life with it.”

“I promised to spend the rest of my life with you a long time ago, Roy. All of you. Even into hell.”

That statement never seemed more true until now. Roy knew she’d be by his side for the rest of their time; whether they ended up in heaven or hell, or perhaps nowhere but the emptiness that stretched on forever.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading xoxo


End file.
